Ew (read: you)

Correctly said: Ew.
Why can’t you be happy and not make a big deal out of it. You don’t speak to me for days and then after I ask you, you send a ‘hey’ and then call a day after at 12am to ‘talk’. Why? Cause it is your holiday. Oh ho, I forgot.. your holiday means my holiday. Such a happy world it would be. If only…

Say,
I stay up till 2, talking to you over the phone, because lets face it- every time I would want to hang up you would try and act cute and not let me. Finally, I sleep at 2.30am after brushing my teeth and straightening my hair. And then, I wake up at 5 am and head straight to college… why? Cause it is NOT a happy world and your holiday is not my holiday and your moods are not synced with mine. Sadly, I am an obstinate, stubborn, headstrong, ass of a person who currently places her academic and personal needs above all else. The primary reason for me to not have many friends or a boyfriend or any major personal relationship or even try to do so, is this. The last year and the following one and half are solely dedicated to initially academics and then, to myself.

I need my peace of mind to be mine. I can not have another person rob me off it just because she or he can do so. I do not give anyone that power, not right now. Having someone hurt or angered because of these decisions of mine irritate me and rob me of that peace of mind because I do not like having someone pissed at me, it unsettles me. So, right now… I’m going to be all zen and not let it get to me. Thus, the writing. Catharsis.

Time to sleep cause we don’t want to stay up too late, do we?

xoxo.

Holi thhi!!

It was Holi today. The festival to celebrate the beginning of a season and also, to make sure no one resembles themselves but smothering them with colours. WoOt! It is the best festival EVER. I love it. I wait for it, earnestly every year. A lot of my friends aren’t pro-holi, given that the colours (called abeer in bengali) aren’t herbal or organic, so there’s the huge issue of skin rashes… and then, people start slinging mud and eggs, rotten tomatoes, the entire mass of things-we-don’t-want-on-our-face.

But I love it. More because, I don’t mind a few rashes and acne on my face. I have so many, anyway, what harm could a few more do, right? And there’s children running around with cute little water guns (pichkarisand uncles and aunts boozing away, halfway down till Sunday, everybody’s hands are pink and faces are red, nails are filled with colour which refuses to come out and there is bhaang everywhere. Bhaang is the best Indian concoction of an illegal (?) drink, and even children gulp it down, cause well, Burra na maano HOLI HAIIII  !

I live in a colony, so the mud slinging and tomato throwing remains contained to a minimum and there is just a lo of water and colours and drying up in the sun, while lying on the grassy lawn, tripping a little on the bhaang that you were given by the adults of the colony, all of this while really bad bollywood songs are blasted on the hired speakers and you’re so thrilled, you actually dance to them like there is no tomorrow. And then when the body begins to ache, you slug back home to sit under the shower, trying in vain, to get back the normal complexion. It sounds dreary and scary but it is double the amount of fun than what I can possibly describe. Imagine, running after your buddy to paint his/her face a shiny golden or a smoky green…which all, in the end, turns to black cause all the colours get mixed up.

It is a day to make amends and forgive, forget and hug things out. It is a day to make merry, to drink openly, to eat great food and visit relatives, cousins, friends, the shizz. It is a day where being dirty is accepted. It is a day where being high is the norm. It is a day where there is colour everywhere… happiness, joy and rainbows being farted out at every corner. How cool can a festival get? Yes, I look like a red-faced bozo right now but I loved every moment of getting painted and thrown water balloons at. It hurts like crazy (that’s the only minus point), but then again, we pay good money to play Paintball, which also hurts life crazy. Tomato-tomaato, then?

Here are some really ugly photos from the day that was, and will always be the day I look forward to every year.

 

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Sleep.

I am terribly sleepy and have academics to catch up with. I have three books to read at the same time and I am failing at it miserably. I am watching Prison Break at an alarming speed, given that I have said academics to deal with. Wentworth Miller is such a heart throb, OH MY DOG!

I’ve downloaded almost all the Oscar nominations for this year, God bless me, for I have sinned? Online piracy and all that.
Apparently, they check your illegal download history if you apply for a job at the CIA. Well, there goes one employment opportunity… One more, I should say.

My birthday went off sailingly. Being twenty-one is the same as being twenty, I must say. SO much hoo-cha-cha for a days worth of a difference! I got a lot of gifts though, and hugs. The friends from college were bitches, other than a few of them. (I have cribbed about the toxicity of college in several previous posts, so I shan’t tarnish the randomness of this one by delving into details) and the friends from school were the exact opposite of bitches; they were darlings. Family love was duly showered upon me, with adequately excessive doses of affection and adulation.

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‘Nuf for now.

Ciao!

One new word.

“You make me feel happy, like one would feel before vomiting butterflies.
The stomach lurches, it churns and I feel uneasy and shifty, if I may say so. And then, it begins to hurt. It hurts so much that I feel pleasured. Long ago, I had read that the pain and pleasure centers are the same in the brain. See? Even God knew how much we love being in pain. The pain gradually magnifies and I know that it will happen any moment now. I rush to the nearest window and inhale. Deep breaths, one after the other. Fresh oxygen. I had also read that most of the air we breathe in is actually nitrogen. We believe in so many lies. And then, precisely at that moment, a host of colourful, patterned and beautifully delicate butterflies fly out… no, burst out of my mouth. Her eyes squinted and hands moved.  You make me ecstatic. But, this love is extremely painful. It is so revoltingly attractive that there are times I want to bring you closer, entice you, seduce you and kiss you so deeply that you bleed. I want to leave you gasping for air, fearing that your life might end and yet, you would be asking for more. You want me, and only me at that moment and all I want to give is what you ask for. So, my darling, Happy birthday!”

Nikhil was stunned. He knew what he was walking into the day he had moved in with Maya, but this? She could write, think and comprehend emotions and better yet, express them in such lucid language using words in ways he never knew they could be, it made him blush like a six year old girl facing her crush for the second time in one day.

“Gosh, Maya! Oh My Gosh! Thank you seems to be such a sorry word to say after what you just…”
Maya would never allow him to finish his sentences. Partly because she already knew what he was trying to say and partly because she knew he wouldn’t be able to complete it without fumbling and then feeling bad.
You’re welcome. See, even I can utter the banalities” She winked at him and scooted closer to snuggle into his arms. Nikhil knew he should be thanking God too, for giving him the pleasure of meeting her, no, for making her love him for he knew she was too good to be true! “Even the banalities sound eloquent when you say them.” He sighed.

“Why did you sigh?” Maya spoke into his chest, her head softly resting on his precordium. She had read that the area of the chest lying directly over the heart was called the precordium. Now she had a word for her favourite part of his chest!
“You know, even my thoughts aren’t as well-rounded as your words. I think with words like pleasure and making.

“Yes, those are words too!”  She laughed at his childishness.
“I would never be good enough for you, Maya. Why do you want me? I mean…”
“Wait! Where did that come from, Tiger?” Maya wasn’t fond of this conversation. She had never answered it either. It seemed to be something that kept haunting him, perennially and she required that he find the answer himself.

“Love without reason lasts the longest” Maya replied to him without looking up. Her ears were still listening to his beating heart with equal intent. Its rhythm had quickened but his chest was moving up and down with each breath, slowly and constantly. He was alive and that was the only answer she needed.

He would never understand the way she felt about him, because of him. She had never felt joy of this kind before he had blazed through her life. It was like an addiction for her. The more she got of him, the lesser it was. She had grown to fall in love with the nuances; his inability to express himself yet his face saying the entire story with surprising detail, his appreciation of her quirk for finding new words and facts, his acknowledgement of the very simple truth that he, was in fact, her fix.

Nikhil looked at her as she pulled away from his entangled arms to rest herself on the chair in front of the study. In one swift movement, she flicked the yellow lamp on, took out her notebook and ink pen and began scribbling. She was at work once more– her mind working its magic again.
She was beautiful, he thought to himself. ‘Beautiful’; such a shallow word for a woman with so much more to her than just that. He didn’t even have an appropriate word to describe her and there she was, effortlessly drawing loops, and crossing her Ts and dotting her Is– writing one breath taking paragraph after another and saying words which made him feel like he was the only man in love. He looked at his hands, the very hands that were cradling hers a few brief yet intoxicating moments ago, and wished that he has a word for her. He went in to shower, knowing full well that she would now be engrossed in her creation for sometime now. He kissed her forehead and went in.

The sound of the shower and tender fragrance of his soap reached outside; she breathed in deeply, itched her shoulder and continued to write.

“MAYA!”
She jumped right out of the chair. “What? You scared me!” She looked at the page of her notebook, soaked in black ink and the nib of her pen now lay broken. “What a beautiful mess, this is” She sang, and laughed, with her head tilting back to just the perfect degree. Her eyes would always close when she did that, after being witty. “That was a mighty quick shower! Did you forget something?”

“I have got the word. I have the word for YOU.”
She smiled and waited patiently for him to come toward her.
She was wearing his white shirt. Her smooth legs were crossed, the right over the left. Her toes were painted a bright fuchsia, chipped at the edges. Her fingers were long, artsy and now, ink-stained. Her hair was tied in to a bun, loose strands escaped from it to break free and kiss the nape of her neck. His shirt embodied her fragrance. She had an ink mark on her left cheek, right next to her lip. Her lips, so luscious, so full, curved into a smile. Her eyes, awaiting his words, questioning his sudden quiet stare. But he wanted to stare; he wanted to record every tiny detail of the moment. He wanted to remember the food stain on the right sleeve, the twinkle of her diamond ear ring, the outline of her waist, the time- 7:56 in the morning.

“So…”
Just this once, only this once, he did not let her complete when she began speaking. He kissed her.

“Fiancée”, he whispered, proudly and anxiously.

“That’s perfect, just perfect.” And she had her fix for the day, she was higher than ever and she knew that she had made the right choice. She rolled her lips out and slowly uttered the new word for her, F-I-A-N-C-E-E, and watched him silently dance back into the bathroom. The sound of the shower and the familiar smell of soap flooded her senses again, and she knew that she was home.

Birthday Wishlist!

Most of you don’t know me and even if you do know me, you don’t give two hoots about it, and even if you give two hoots about it you are confused.
“It” ? Oh, just my birthday.
So, I am just going to be shameless and unladylike and publically list a set of things I would appreciate as birthday gifts, which by the way is this week. I will start of unrealistically, but wait for it to get to what’s actually feasible (read: your budget). I’m sure you’ll find something 😛

1. A car.
Any car. That can be driven and can take a pounding yet save my life. And be zippy.

2. An Omega watch.
But that’s something I want to gift to myself when I can afford it, which lets face it isn’t happening before I turn thirty cause I chose a brilliant profession of dentistry that wont allow me to start earning mych before that. Hmm.

3. A Victoria’s Secret perfume called Very Sexy Hot.
No seriously, that IS the name and it is available on ebay.com! Woot. (Budget alarm)

4. A gift voucher to Michael Kors.
There’s this new mall with all these brands in my city and I am highly unaware of these things, but they say this brand is the shizz. I want the shizz. And, bags? Something all women need just one of, but have a lot more.

5. An unending supply of pens/ stationary .Linc Ocean gels will do as well. I seem to be running out of pens like a man on diarrhoea runs out of poo. In hindsight, that was a terrible analogy.

6. A full body massage coupon along with a manicure and pedicure.
Cause who doesn’t like their toes being fiddled with? Ha.

7. A Samsung Galaxy S3 screenguard that has a matte finish.
They are just so cool. I saw them on my friend’s S3 and there were no fingerprints on it! Oh My Dog, humans can invent almost anything!

8. Bose noise cancelling ear phones.
I was supposed to get them a few months back but that obviously didn’t happen cause why else would I be asking for another one? They’re so darn expensive. Id have to physically make sure there’s no ear wax before I put them in!
9. A bunch of lilies.
White, yellow, red, pink, lavendender. All colours, please. (Best friend, take note. You could send me this cause I know you’re utterly confused. Scoot!)

10. Birthday blessings and hugs and kisses and prayers and just all in all, hope that I can get through and out of my final year of Graduate education with colours flying out of a Unicorn’s behind! See, this definitely fits everyone’s pockets haha! You cheapass people that I love :*
I love everything else as well. (not so much) Not high maintenance at all, you see?

Kidding.

P.s: and Humankind. Be both. Y

Cheers!

Stay tangled.